The red dragon guard — still eyeing them with barely-contained suspicion — turned without another word and stalked toward the massive gates of the Citadel. His humanoid form was imposing: crimson scales glinting like fresh blood under the volcanic haze, wings tucked tight but twitching with residual fury, sharp claws clicking against the obsidian ground. The air around him shimmered with heat, as if his very presence boiled the atmosphere.
"Follow," he growled over his shoulder. "And keep those... worms... contained. The Lord does not tolerate chaos."
Siddy, coiled in Alex's carrier, hissed indignantly at being called a worm — his tiny hood flaring in miniature outrage. Alex quickly pressed a hand over the pouch to muffle him. "Not now, little one. Diplomacy first, biting later."
